


I'll love you 7 times more

by casstastrophe



Series: I'll love you [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Friends With Benefits, Implied Relationships, M/M, NSFW, One-Sided Attraction, Unhealthy Relationships, im so sorry for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:53:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25885390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casstastrophe/pseuds/casstastrophe
Summary: Tsukishima Kei is in love with Akaashi Keiji, his best friend. Akaashi is in (an implied) toxic relationship with his high school boyfriend, Bokuto Koutarou, repeatedly breaking up. Every time they do, Akaashi always finds himself in Tsukki's arms.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Tsukishima Kei
Series: I'll love you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878382
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	I'll love you 7 times more

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there :)) Firstly, I apologize for this hurt that no one asked for <3 but i think it's possibly worth it because of some fluff bittersweet nsfw moments????? usually for akaatsukki agenda anyways but i needed to hurt them first so hope yall enjoy :>

He’s back.

He’s back in front of his doorstep, the stench of alcohol stuck to his clothes, tear-stained cheeks, knocking annoyingly loud on the door of the small unit.

Tsukishima Kei, 24 years old and 194 cm, calmly walks to the front of his house knowing exactly what or who would be standing there.

His hand hovers on the knob for a few seconds as he sighs, mentally preparing himself for what comes next. The doorknob turns, letting the wasted man in.

Akaashi Keiji, 25 years old and 183 cm, going through the thousandth break up with the same boyfriend he’s had since high school.

He falls into Tsukki’s chest.

Tsukishima Kei, who is in love with his best friend, is Akaashi Keiji’s best friend and… hm, occasional fuck buddy during these times.

Tsukki looks down, analyzing Akaashi’s reddened cheeks, swollen and bloodshot eyes, disheveled hair, and jello-like limbs.

“Again?” He thinks to himself, he wants to ask this out loud, but of course “again.” He’s used to this, there’s no point in asking if it happened again but he gets tired too. He thought last time was the last. Bokuto promised to take care of him this time.

He takes Akaashi’s body in his arms, one arm under his back and the other placed underneath his legs. Akaashi’s eyes were barely open, the side of his head stuck on Tsukki’s bicep.

  
“I-I love yo—“

  
“Akaashi, we’re not going through this again. Don’t say things you would never say if you were sober.”

“S-sorr…” He was too wasted to continue his sentence, one more syllable and he might vomit.

Tsukki stares at the Akaashi in his arms. He doesn’t like seeing him in so much pain but he’s used to it by now. Besides, guiltily, he likes being able to take care of him.

He was drunk and a complete mess, but Tsukki still felt like he was beautiful. And he was. Akaashi’s small frame fit perfectly in his arms, hands hugging the side of his ribcage and his thigh.

The taller boy set him down, letting him drop his face in front of the toilet, “Akaashi, you have to get it out of your system before you go to bed. Come on, before I stick my fingers down your throat. I know you got mad at me the last time.”

He held Akaashi’s bangs up, one hand on the vomiting boy’s back, comforting him.

Once Akaashi was done letting all the alcohol out, he brought him to the sink, washing his face gently with running water from the faucet. Tsukki thought this was all so stupid, but for the boy in front of him, he’d do anything.

He took Akaashi’s arm and placed it around his shoulder, guiding him before he plops him down to the bed. He heads towards his closet, picking clothes that would comfortably fit the boy currently halfway dead on his bedsheets. He takes Akaashi’s clothes off (a struggle considering Akaashi wouldn’t stop whining and slapping Tsukki’s hands, off), but after doing this so many times, Tsukki knows what to do.

“Akaashi, be a good boy.” He whispers into his ears, his long fingers tracing the strained muscle on Akaashi’s neck while his other hand goes through Akaashi’s still-silky hair, petting him like a cat in need of attention.

Akaashi relaxes at his touch, letting all the tension out of his body, he falls on the line between awake and asleep. Tsukki composes himself as he stares at Akaashi’s half-naked body—his collarbones, his slightly more defined abs—all in front of Tsukki. He composes himself not because he’s tempted to touch Akaashi, but because he knows what’s coming tomorrow and he’s admiring the beauty he gets to see from time to time.

Before he slips the big purple t-shirt with the star on the left pocket on the sleeping boy, he grabs a slightly damp towel, wiping the stench of alcohol away Akaashi’s body then soon tucking him in bed. Tsukki doesn’t bother sleeping on another bed, even spooning his best friend: a daily routine when this happens.

Akaashi wakes up with the smell he’s way too familiar with. Aside from the alcohol in his breath, the scent of chicken noodle soup and scrambled eggs make their way into the bedroom from the kitchen.

His head is throbbing and everything’s a bit too loud. Ah, he’s back here, on the same bed he’s always in after his break ups.

Bokuto Koutarou, 25 years old and 190 cm, Akaashi’s high school boyfriend and current ex-boyfriend (again).

Akaashi shifts himself off the bed, moving his legs off the blanket. His body aches from the pain of flinging himself around last night as he drank his soul away, his stomach hurt from the forced heaving along with its emptiness.

“I’m gonna die of starvation.” He thinks to himself, almost falling on the floor (still a little tipsy) before being caught by large hands on his forearms.

“There’s chicken noodle soup in the kitchen. Plus, some pancakes if you want to hope that it’ll absorb all the leftover alcohol in your system from being a dumbass.” Tsukki smacks the back of Akaashi’s head once he’s gained some type of stability back then headed to where he came from with Akaashi following behind him.

Akaashi gripped Tsukki’s wrist while they walked to the kitchen.

“Later.” Tsukki made clear before Akaashi took his hand, off.

As Akaashi groaned about the bright lights and headache while eating his soup, Tsukki placed the usual banana smoothie beside his bowl before sitting down on the chair to his left.

“Thanks,” he took a big gulp of the smoothie prepared for him, pouting as he apologizes for all the whining he’s been doing.

An hour in, Akaashi feels his headaches lessen, his body aches were still present but they weren’t as bad as this morning.

He tugs at Tsukki’s shirt, Tsukki’s lean and tall frame hovered over Akaashi, his long legs leading the way to the bedroom. He knew what this all meant.

“Tsukki looks so pretty,” Akaashi thought to himself.

The taller boy’s ruffled-but-neat blonde bed hair, his glasses that perfectly frame his golden-brown eyes, his slender torso with his back muscles (more prominent through the almost-sheer white shirt) facing Akaashi. Everything about him was graceful, almost elegant, but he gave off an intense presence despite being on the skinnier side for someone of his height.

The room was dark and cold, but far from lonely. The mattress sinks, Tsukki sits on the foot of the bed, bringing his shirt up to his head and finally exposing his chest and torso. Akaashi lays on the bed, already shirtless, chest rising and falling quicker than it should be. This is the view Tsukki sees every single time this happens. This is why he never feels the need to touch him when he can’t because he gets to.

The taller boy hovers over him, hands on the side of Akaashi’s head. As he lays below him, he stares at Tsukki’s lean but toned body. He doesn’t seem like he’d have any muscle underneath the big clothes he wears, but as Akaashi’s fingertips trace his biceps and abs, he can’t help but want that body on his.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“You’re asking me, now?” Akaashi gets this response as soft lips touch his neck then the tip of a tongue tracing his collarbones.

All of this mess started the day Akaashi broke up with Bokuto for the first time, three days after Tsukki confessed.

“I like you.” Tsukki’s words were placed in front of Akaashi’s phone screen.

“He… he broke up with me.” This was the first time Akaashi showed up to Tsukki’s home, unannounced and drunk. He cried his eyes out on Tsukki’s chest, gripping his shirt’s sleeves. Tsukki held him in his arms, no matter how painful this was for both of them, his hand on Akaashi’s nape while his thumb repeatedly stroked his skin.

They spent the majority of their evening, that day, just like that. Except for the next few hours after, when Akaashi impulsively pressed his lips on Tsukki’s while they stared at the window because he “thought he looked pretty under the moonlight.”

The skinny boy didn’t have enough time to react properly, not able to process what was happening, simply filled with ecstasy from Akaashi’s soft lips. They moved together in unison, hands in each others’ hair. He didn’t understand how he felt about this until the morning after when the other boy apologized repeatedly.

As they sat up on the bed, wrapped in the blanket, the two boys stared at the opposite sides of the room.

Maybe they would’ve talked if they had woken up while cuddling and in love, but this wasn’t done because of love. This happened because of frustration and desperation.

“What are we?” One of the two boys broke the silence, grabbing his glasses off the side table while the other boy couldn’t give an answer.

Akaashi spoke, “Tsukki, I’m—“

“Don’t apologize. I’m fine with it.” Tsukki stood up to head to the bathroom.

“What? What do you mean your fine with it? Tsukki, I feel like I’m using you.”

“You are. But, I allowed you to. I mean, if I made you feel better, I’m fine with this.” Tsukki’s voice traveled the house, from the bathroom back to the bedroom then to the kitchen accompanied by the sound of the stove being turned on. “I’ll make some pancakes, I heard it helps with hangovers.”

And that’s how it all started.

That’s how Akaashi ended up below Tsukki again, how he ended up biting his bottom lip as Tsukki’s mouth travels from his collarbone to his chest, to his ribs and down to his goosebump-filled thighs.

That’s how Tsukki ended up getting used to Akaashi showing up at his home, wasted and crying. That’s how he got used to knowing what Akaashi meant when he grabbed his wrists.

That day was the day Tsukki stopped desperately wanting to touch Akaashi because he got to and he gets to.

But do you know how painful it is, to get to touch the one you want but never have them? To finally understand how they feel and taste all while knowing that it’ll never be completely yours?

Like a diamond necklace that you could borrow but never keep. You’ll experience the way the cold gem touches your skin and how it makes you feel, knowing how precious it is, but understanding that at one point, it’ll be taken off and you’ll feel bare again.

“At least I’ll have you in some way.” That was why he stayed.

It was only for a few hours, but in those few hours, Tsukki knows how Akaashi feels like underneath his fingertips. He knows how he feels when he trembles and how his skin tastes against his tongue. He memorizes every part of Akaashi’s body, every vein, and mole. He gets to see and touch things others only wish they could. He gets to hear Akaashi scream his name. So, he’s okay with this.

Afterward, they’d have the same conversation as they lie on their respective pillows, a good distance apart—guilt and slight frustration always filling the air.

“Tsukki, I’m sorry. I don’t like feeling like I’m using you. Maybe, we should stop.” Akaashi hugged his knees to his chest. He really didn’t like feeling like he was using Tsukki but he’d also be lying if he’d say he would be happy if they stopped.

“No, we’re not stopping,” Tsukki said, almost a little bit too passionately. He had to calm down. They have this conversation all the time, what’s so different now?

The difference now, was that they’ve done this too many times.

Tsukki’s starting to feel entitled.

“Use me… use me all you want.” Tsukki put his shirt back on, “And didn’t I tell you to stop apologizing?”

He lays back down, “Besides, you can’t be having second thoughts now, right? After all, this has been about the 7th time we’ve done this.” He shifts to his side, away from Akaashi.

Tsukishima Kei, 24 years old and 194 cm, started thinking “Maybe if we do this enough times, you’ll realize you love me. Maybe, you’ll leave him permanently. Maybe, you’ll see that I’m the love that you deserve.”

Akaashi lays his head on his pillow now, facing Tsukki’s back, he stares at the blonde boy—flashbacks of his body on top of his own just a few minutes ago. His finger traces down the line on Tsukki’s back as he feels Tsukki shiver at his touch. His hand traces back up, his fingertips skim through the blonde’s nape before his whole palm glides up his hair, fingers running through it.

Even with the experience of having their bodies against each other, this has been the most intimate moment they’ve shared—quiet and fragile, a mere sound can break it. Tsukki turns around to face Akaashi, a few moments of silence before he inches his face closer to Akaashi’s, feeling each others’ breaths touch their skin. Tsukki’s fingers brush the other boy’s hair off his face, seeing a clearer picture of his long eyelashes, his sharp nose bridge, and the softness of his lips.

He remembers their conversations.

“Kisses are too intimate, don’t you think? There are so many emotions in one kiss. You could touch my whole body and it wouldn’t feel as intimate.”

Tsukki hasn’t kissed Akaashi since the first time they did, with Akaashi having a habit of covering his mouth with the back of his hand during some of their more heated moments.

But here they were, on a shared bed, faces inches apart. Akaashi’s lips were separated as if waiting for Tsukki’s to touch theirs. His bottom lip trembled, eyes almost to a close, feeling Tsukki’s bottom lip touch his. This was it. This is the moment Tsukki can finally call him, his. He’d be the one to treat him right: cook for him every morning, lunch, and dinner, take care of him when he’s drunk, wake up to him every morning, kiss him goodnight—

Then the phone rang.

Akaashi sat up, almost like he was woken up from a dream, he crawled off the bed in a hurry.

Tsukki’s eyes followed the boy in his purple t-shirt, watching him accept a phone call.

“Love?”

Like his bones broke, Tsukki fell on the bed and closed his eyes as he listened to Akaashi.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be there. See you soon, love.”

Tsukki stayed laying on his back as he hears Akaashi getting into his clothes from the night before. An arm on his eyes, “I love you.”

And suddenly there’s silence.

He looks up at Akaashi, who is just staring now.

“What? Tsukki, we agreed that—“

Tsukki can feel his blood boil. He doesn’t wanna see Akaashi get hurt anymore.

“I-I know what we agreed on. I know that we did these things to make you feel better, I know. I know there are no feelings involved. Trust me, I know more than you do. I’ve told myself that a million times to get it through my head. But, how can you let me touch you like that and still not care? How can say my name like that and tell me that there aren’t any feelings involved?”

“God, I knew we shouldn’t have done this. I knew you liked me and yet… I’m stupid. Look, I’m sorry Tsukki. I should’ve never allowed us to do this.” Akaashi continued dressing up, Bokuto Koutarou being the only thing in his mind.

“7 times! You think you’re stupid?” Tsukki sat up the bed, gripping the sheets. “Fine then, you are. You are incredibly stupid.”

Akaashi doesn’t know what to say as Tsukki stands up, he hovers over him again, his soft front gone replaced by anger and seething pain.

His voice cracks, “You’re stupid because he’s hurt you SEVEN TIMES. Seven times, yet you go back to him every single time like things will be better the next. You’ve been over here, drunk and crying, seven times now. How many times do I have to hold you in my arms and tell you it’ll be okay? Will there be an eight?”

He wraps his arms around Akaashi’s neck, resting on his shoulders. “Akaashi, I love you. Who is he? Why does he get to hurt you seven times while I’m here, loving you seven more, and you still go back to him?” The blonde boy feels like his hearts about the pop open.

There’s silence,

Until the phone rings again.

Tsukki lets go, waiting to see if the boy in front of him will pick up the phone.

The phone stops ringing, it’s pinned to his ear.

They stare at each other, one with apologetic eyes and the other in disbelief.

“Yeah, yeah. I promise, Bo. I’ll be there soon.” Akaashi faced away from Tsukki and started walking until Tsukki grabs his wrist. He looks back, “I don’t love you. I thought you could handle that. I’m sorry, Kei.”

“Me too. I’m sorry you’re going back to him.” Tsukki lets go, letting him out the door. “Before you go, can you tell me why? Why do you go back?”

“I’ve been with him for 11 years, Tsukki.”

“What’s the point of the 11 years if you’ve spent it crying and unhappy?”

“… He knows me better than anyone.”

Tsukki heard ringing in his ears that he chose to ignore.

Knows him better than anyone, huh?

He watched as Akaashi’s back got smaller.

Ping!

A message:

From: Tsukkishima Kei

Next time, don’t come over.

From: Akaashi Keiji

I’m sorry.

To: Akaashi Keiji

Me too.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly can't believe my first AO3 post is an akaatsukki nsfw angst HAHAHA I never thought I'd be writing here in the first place but this turned out a lot longer than I thought it would and some people suggested a second part so I'll probably update this with a second part in the series! I hope you guys enjoyed that :)) 
> 
> follow me @haikyuutmo twitter if u enjoyed my writing AAAASDIJS ok byebye thank u


End file.
